Unbeständiger Mond : Lüg Niemals
by the-dreary-unicorn
Summary: When the dystopian rulers of 'GUN' order Sonic's termination once and for all, they employ one of Robotnik's fondest creations...a seven-year-old Mobian experiment named Mondenkind. Only things, as they often do, go terribly wrong. Sonamy, Shadouge. AU.
1. Easter

**Unbeständiger Mond :**

**Lüg Niemals**

**K.E. Wesch**

* * *

**(Don't have any particular reason to read all this? Then, by all means, skip it, scroll down and start the story.)**

**Pocket Summary: (Story is in English.) Darkness has never seemed so palpably close as it has now. What with Robotnik's surrendering to and joining up with G.U.N….the entire world is now in constant fear of a dystopian uprising. When G.U.N. orders the termination of Sonic once and for all, they employ one of Robotnik's fondest creations…a seven-year-old Mobian named Mondenkind. **

**(Yes, I _do_ fail at summaries. Do you want a freakin' cookie for your perceptiveness?) **

**Disclaimers: (The part we all _love_ to read.) I do not own anything canon in this story. They are copyrighted and owned by SEGA as well as Archie Comics, 4KidsTv, etc. I DO, however, own my OC's, so don't mess with them without asking. **

**This story is not going to take place in any particular point in the game's/TV show's linage, nor will it have the same exact things going on, because I don't really see a need for trying to figure something like that out. Sort of like an AU, but not entirely. It is on Earth, or at least, the world startlingly similar to 'Earth' that was featured in Sonic Adventure DX, complete with Angel Island, Mystic Ruins, etc. All canon chars are going to be as young as the majority of games depict them: as in, Tails will be eight, Amy twelve, Sonic fifteen, etc….Simply because I want to avoid any awkward romantic pairings. In this story, Shadow, Rouge, Knuckles, and Big are all older teens/adults, again for technical reasons. **

**Pairings: Alrighty, so we've got ourselves some Tails x OC, some Sonamy and some Shadouge. If any other romantic opportunities present themselves, then sweet. **

**Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, brief implied sensuality (NOT involving the little guys…eww…it's with the adult chars), slight language, torture, child abuse, all the super-fun stuff I normally warn about. When anything serious goes down, I promise to up the rating to M. **

**There were some problems with this story the first time I tried it, so I re-did a few things and re-submitted. A big thank you goes out to Taranea for helping me! **

* * *

_CHAPTER ONE: Easter _

Why _did _he trouble with this fascination anyway? So much daily routine, so much constant dat-dat-dat of the machines as they whirred behind him...In the end, the only valid reason Robotnik could produce for why he did what he did was because he _loved it. _He _loved _the routine, _loved _the outstretching of gloved hands to tinker away with circuit boards as the hours ran into days and days melded into weeks, his mind dipping in and out of clarity as swiftly as a sewing needle weaves in and out of fabric.

But…what was there to be said of his life _now_? He had been trying so hard, for so very long, overcoming so many trials, sewing and sewing his own grand quilt, made from the fabric of life…only to _surrender?_

Impossible.

Indeed, G.U.N. had promised him glory, recognition, even a few 'special advancements.' They had smiled and nodded and passed him the paperwork without the slightest of hesitation. They had given him new tools, new technology, new types of metal, new ships, new experiences. Even a new job in a nice office. But what was he, the greatest scientific genius to ever live, supposed to glean from all this? Nothing. Nothing at all, not with things standing the way they were. Put bluntly, Ivo worked alone. Alone and above.

What G.U.N. had done to him, badgering him into surrendering like this, lowering him so far down on the totem pole, taking away any number of ambitions, was unforgivable.

Sighing, the broken scientist picked up his telephone, swinging back and forth in his mobile chair rather absentmindedly. No matter how unforgivable their actions…he obeyed them. Perhaps weakness. Perhaps scheming. Perhaps boredom. No-one could really tell why he obeyed. He just…did. For now.

Ivo input twelve choice numbers on the telephone, jumping through a security hoop in the process. Then he waited for the ring.

He knew what it was about, why the Commander had asked him to call so early in the morning, when the first pinks and oranges of daybreak were barely making their presence known through thin cracks in the office blinds, when the various secretaries had groggily started to mill about, making coffee in break rooms, coming into his room uninvited to rifle through desk drawers and cabinets, high heels clacking against the black-and-white linoleum.

The Commander needed to borrow one of Ivo's projects, yet again. Probably, they were having some more 'technical difficulties' with the local Freedom Fighters.

A long-winded ringing session sounded in his ears, almost to the point where Ivo considered hanging up and trying again later, before the Commander answered his supposedly expected call with a bright: "EGGMAN! So great to hear from you, truly it is."

"A pleasure," the Doctor replied dryly, cringing and gritting his teeth. He hated being called that. And why was the Commander acting so happy? The guy could barely manage to plaster a smile on his face, let alone jump onto a phone line and exclaim his co-worker's name with any amount of excitement. "Now how can I help you, Commander, sir?"

"Well, the thing is…we seem to have caught word that you've…"

"That I've what?"

"…That you've been harboring some of your material from us for a long time now, thinking we wouldn't find out, but, as is obvious now, we have. Things you don't use. Things you didn't think you'd _have_ to use. We just think it would be beneficial for us to at least see some of these harbored creations. You understand."

Ivo was silent as he listened to the Commander's account. Gulping, he turned in his chair, to face away from the door and towards the white wall, with its framed photos of the good 'ol days--- mostly gloriously captured images of rare instances where he managed to beat Sonic down to the ground. Sure, Sonic always got onto his feet again. Sure, Ivo had never defeated him once and for all. But these photos were just for smiles. Smiles and longing. "No, I don't understand," he rebuked, seemingly as unabashed as a spark in the night. "I don't understand at all. I have given you everything I own, everything I've worked on, even things that have taken half a lifetime to build. What more do you want from me?"

Light chuckles from the other end. Bemusement at Ivo's hopeless cause. The suit pressed on. "We want you to show us what you're hiding. Those rooms in the lower levels of your laboratories, where people rarely visit, let alone investigate. That's all. Couldn't be that hard to haul some skeletons out of the closet, no? If those abandoned robotics or plans aren't being used, then why bother keeping them, Eggman? Obviously they don't matter to you."

Actually, the Doctor _did_ posses a worthy abandoned project, the only alive model in a set of eight, this set the only things occupying those 'lower levels' and the only creations he'd never told his supervisors about. He had good motivation to keep it hidden from G.U.N., but he also had good motivation to obey his Commander and not get his dome of a head blown off. Closing his eyes, rubbing his auburn brown moustache with a tired hand, Ivo compensated weakly, feeling as though another part of his life quilt had just been set ablaze, flames searing at his heart without mercy.

"There is one. One. That is all I've been hiding. It's not what you would expect, but it is a weapon nonetheless." Ivo let out a painful breath. "When would you like to see it?"

There was a short pause, then a short-lived confirmation: "…As soon as possible, if you don't mind. Thanks for your time. Have a nice day."

Spinning around in his chair, slamming the phone down after the Commander's dismissal, Ivo grumbled incoherently to himself and quickly took up his yellow notepad and pen, readying to keep working on some new plans.

Stupid G.U.N. and their fast talk and flashy ways. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…

* * *

Silver tears, silver lining, silver dancing, dancing tears. Tears of the sun, tears of God, tears of man, sinners, tears cried and streaming down panes of stained glass this fine Easter morning…

These were the words twelve-year-old Amy Rose wrote down inside her notebook as she sat patiently in one of the church pews on the far right of the room, near the huge, stained glass windows. To either side of her sat two other Mobians. Sonic, a strapping young hedgehog of fifteen, and Miles 'Tails' Prower, a punctual, double-tailed child-kitsune of eight. In reality, none of the three wanted to be here, despite the fact that it was Easter morning, despite the fact everyone and their brother in this part of the county was attending. Not now. They did not want to listen to some boring old human rant about God and his son the "savior"….

The world had already needed a savior. They had needed Sonic...

Look how that one turned out.

"Sonic--- T-Tails! Knock it off!" Amy hissed lowly, trying feebly to get her pink and green notebook away from their grasping fingers. "What is your problem today? Huh?"

"We just wanna see it," Sonic whispered. "C'mon, show us what deep poetics you've got going on there."

"No!"

Tails leaned in closer. "Please? I mean, I wanna be a writer too…Maybe your words can inspire me."

Watching the fox's eyes grow wider, shinier, as he innocently cocked his head to the side, the girl registered what was going on and scoffed. "Tails. You're the worst liar in the world, you know that?"

_Smack! _One. _Smack! _And two.

Amy hit the both of them over the head with the notebook in question. Then, after climbing over Tails, she scooted down more towards the end of the pew, nearer to the windows and the light she had written to be 'like streaming sun tears.'

"_For he _has _arisen! For he _has _come back to shed his light on the Earth and fill us with the bounty of heaven, for he _is _the Lord!" _

She listened halfway to what the Priest was saying. Mostly just picking out the select words and phrases that she found beautiful enough to write down… for rewording and poetic revamping later. Oh, how broken she had become. Twelve is an impressionable age, even more so when your six-year-old friend is in prison, your life turned upside down, and your world ruined, stained with unfitting shades of black and red.

A few months ago the three of them had agreed to move out of the City and into the far-off countryside. It was too rigorous in the City, too controlled and too close to the source of the terror. At first, Sonic had been furious at the very thought. There was _no way _he could just pack up and leave like a frightened vermin. He was a hero. He was supposed to, he was _destined _to stay and fight, to put an end to G.U.N.'s sudden reign and restore harmony.

Then reality hit.

Sonic was just a boy. A teen. A child.

He stood no chance, at least not against numbers like these, without so much as an inkling on how to reach the source of the madness.

Cream, a Freedom Fighter and one of the group's closest friends, had been captured, as had her darling mother, Vanilla…Two weeks later, Vanilla was reported dead, killed in direct result of Cream's unwillingness to conform. Indirect torture.

Robot army after robot army assembled. Human armies began to take form as well. G.U.N. divided and conquered silently, creating bases and fortresses where before there had been nothing.

As for Shadow, Knuckles, and Rouge…they had decided to stay and fight with the other FF. They were older. Maybe smarter, possibly more calculating, and certainly more capable of handling themselves in combat against the great numbers and new designs.

One could say Tails, Sonic and Amy were doing fine, and it would be easy enough to agree with this. They lived alone in a nice house, got along with each other (considering), had enough to eat and a good school to attend.

One could _also_ say that this wasn't enough.

That it could never be enough.


	2. Mondenkind

**Unbeständiger Mond : **

**Lüg Niemals**

**K.E. Wesch**

_CHAPTER TWO: Mondenkind_

* * *

_Children. Eight of them. Mobians. With sunken eyes. Shallow breathing. Painfully thin bodies and even thinner hearts on the verge of breaking._

_They all wanted to kill him. _

_Their desire to see his throat torn out in a glorious burst of ligament and muscle, crimson splatter and gleaming wet tissue could only compare to the innate desire Satan had to win over souls. It was an irreconcilable thing. Untouchable, unstoppable. They wanted him dead, and so be by the rising moon, that would be the end of _that.

_Wouldn't it? _

_By manner, fate was similarly untouchable, and the heavens above knew Robotnik's karma was trashed beyond compare. _

_Oh, it was _his_ fault, wasn't it?_

_Had always been his fault. _

_He knew he should have stuck with robots, he _knew---

"Robotnik! Would you try and focus for me here? This is a delicate process. Who knows what these robotics could have turned into over the years? After all, it isn't smart to just abandon entire projects like that."

The steely voice of the Commander brought Ivo's mind back down to earth and he stopped dreaming of hell-children, falling in place behind his superior as they entered yet another glass elevator. "It isn't a robot…"

"What?" the Commander asked, taken aback.

"…Nevermind. The floor is E-46."

How old would it be? No more than ten, because it was ten years ago that he had gained the funds, the initial sketches…but one could never be sure. Maybe it, too, had died. Forgotten and neglected like the rest. Though, even if it had lived, what would happen if he took it out of it's containment? It could die from sudden exposure. Worse, it could be perfectly fine. And if that was the case…the thing might just crave to see him…

"As you say." Shaking his head, the commander input the correct floor number on the glass elevators menu, dim eyes narrowing and cast downward whilst his companion gamboled about in his dome-shaped head and nervously played with his new, all streamlined black-and-white uniform. Then, with not the slightest warning, the elevator began to plunge. Four hours and forty-two minutes had passed since the phone call and already the two of them were off to see what the Doctor had been harboring. Small world. Now they began their descent into the bottom levels of the Egg Carrier, so old but still so very loved. He had to bring it back up. He couldn't resist. "So, Eggman, what did you mean by 'not a robot?'"

Head spinning at no less than a million miles an hour, heavyset form wavering on wobbling legs, Ivo tried to compose himself enough to look over and answer. "I meant it's not a robot. End of story." He huffed and leaned back against the wall for support, suddenly feeling the sweat dripping down his neck, tasting the growing fear on his tongue, smelling the astringent scent of anxiety. This was all too much. He couldn't reveal this project, not _this _one. Anything but _this _one. He'd give his right arm not to…

"What's wrong? You seem a little nervous over there."

"No bluff, Sherlock," Ivo said sharply.

"Don't talk to me that that." If the Doctor had not been lost in his terror, he would have payed more heed to this warning. "You know, if there's something you want to inform me of, before we arrive…Best do it now."

_Click. _With a breezy, gentle whoosh, the glass doors slid open, beyond them what appeared to be a decrepit, abandoned hallway: most of the florescent lights were out of commission, leaving much of the hall in a murky grey-black, the linoleum floor was cracked in places, charred in other places, and in still others utterly potholed, the walls….well, the originally white plaster walls were in the worst state of all, rust trails from water dripping slowly from above, scorched panels, haphazard stains and slimy, writhing insects in a variety of colors and shapes, crawling their way from one hole to the next.

After the duo stepped out, the Commander allotted his co-worker some time to muster up a response, but once getting nothing from him but a few, jittery bursts of breath, he simply shrugged and started to walk forward.

The door they needed turned out to be completely security-free. No system codes, no handprint panels, no lasers that traced the codes inside your irises or instantly appearing guns to threaten death. Not even a lonely padlock adorned this hunk of steel, on which two large words had been spray painted in beetle-black: _Buki o Seikatsu. _Ivo had originally opted for _Lebende Waffe, _favoring German…but was roundly brought back to focus once he realized Japan was the major exporter in the world, that mayhaps they would appreciate his sentiment…not that anything ever got that far.

Aside from a single exception, this room and the things in it had been derelict for years now. No longer trying to impress anyone or anything.

Ivo used his muscle to push open the door, relieved when it moved easily. He had worried that the rust would have stalled it by now.

"And…in we go." The human Commander chirped. He waved, implying, a lingering shine in his eyes and blatant quiver in his voice betraying his own anxiety. With Ivo now in the lead, they entered.

"Nothing less than incredible, am I right? Do you like what you see?" Hesitating at the head of a two story flight of glass stairs, the Doctor awaited a reaction. He was doing his best to gather himself to a somewhat composed manner now that their safety was in jeopardy and time had become a serious issue. A sane person would have asked for help with these things, give up the front and tell the truth…but he wasn't sane. He was a scientist, and, at that, one who liked to keep things from others until the last possible second.

A strident 'ha!' of glee escaping the Commander's lips, he rushed to the railing, hands hidden behind black leather quickly grasping the top bar and twisting, twisting, twisting. He took a breath. "Eight of them! Eight of them!" Carefully, he scanned the room below. Soaking up everything he saw like a sponge left out in the sun too long. "Now, Eggman, I thought the whole _Buki o Seikatsu _thing was a joke to keep idiots out. But it seems you really have been dealing in something other than robots. Haven't you?" He turned to give Ivo an expression of most joyful content, as he realized wholeheartedly what had been going on down there.

"To be honest sir," Ivo explained wryly, "Seven of them are dead. As you can see by their vitals. Though…looks like…this one's still kicking."

Below, eight steel, tan-colored isolation tanks large enough to house elephants were lined up in equal rows and equal columns, with a small walking space in between each. Each tank had it's own computer, each computer it's own readouts. The floor was concrete and icy even to look at. Water steadily flowed in minute rivers from underneath the tanks, as if they all had a leak somewhere.

Gulping for the second time that day, the Doctor hastily made his way down the stairs. He _really _didn't want to do this. What he _really _wanted to do was to go home, forget about _it_, keep _it_ locked up here until _it_ died, utterly unbeknownst for the sake of _itself_ and everyone else.

But, around the Commander, it became obvious that that wasn't going to happen.

"Oh my, well, something is better than nothing!" the rushed general called as he ran to catch up. When he did, he found Ivo at the very back of the room, the scientist's large hand rested almost in sad reminisce against one of the tanks, rising only rarely to gently stroke the steel container.

"Her name is Mondenkind," he said.

And he turned his head to look the Commander right in the face.


	3. Snow

**Katie: I'm going to kill myself.**

**Mond: Way to start off the next chapter, author. *clap clap***

**Katie: I just noticed my fatal typos in the last chapters…**

**Mond: Well, that certainly is tragic, no wonder you want to kill yourself.**

**Katie: Shush. I fixed them. But I am still haunted…every time I think of them...Makes me want to cry. Why does my writing suck so bad…**

**Mond: *scoffs* Ignore her. She's just embarrassed about her mistakes and wants to save face. **

**Katie: Don't be mean! I'm trying to do a better job now! **

**Mond: You keep writing so badly, Lord Kelvin is going to drop in for an Aloha…**

**Katie: *growls* Fine. Guess I should stop writing this too-long A/N then, huh?**

**Mond: That would be a nice start. *nods***

* * *

**Unbeständiger Mond :**

**Lüg Niemals**

**K.E. Wesch**

_CHAPTER THREE: Snow_

_So this is how it ends_

_This is where it all goes down_

_This is what "I don't love you" feels like_

_It ain't the middle of the night_

_And it ain't even raining outside…_

Amy sighed when she heard the country lyrics wafting out of a truck's open passenger window, arms hugging her notebook tightly to her chest, pump endowed feet clicking against the asphalt parking lot, cherry-pink hair catching the sunlight luminously, so brightly as to blind anyone within two feet of her...Luckily, no-one was. It was the shampoo from that morning. She'd gone to a lot of trouble to look pretty this Easter, mostly for Sonic's sake. She'd even bought a new dress, white, just above the knees, silky and lacy, with a giant white bow around the middle. Along with a small collection of cleaning products from a niche store...

Unfortunately, the shampoo had been a brand foreign to her, and when she came out of the shower, she found herself faced with what Tails coined 'Glitter Hair.'

_What I wouldn't give for another chance…another chance to see Cream before she left…What I wouldn't give to go back, and tell her to stay…_Hanging her head, the girl walked even slower. She wasn't really looking where she was going. Her eyes were lost and wandering in the realm of her mind.

After the service, Amy came out of the Church feeling spiritually deflated--- unlike so many around her. _They _were feeling vibrant, hopeful, alive, ready to reach up their hands and shout "Praise the Lord!" at ear-piercing levels. But what did she, a popping pink hedgehog among humans, have to praise the Lord about? She still had her precious Sonic…that was something, _more _than something. She still had Tails. She had a home--- a shelter from the fear of the outside world ---and Tails' newly re-engineered Tornado, in case things started going wrong here too.

It was all she needed.

All Amy had _ever _needed was to be near her friends, forget the rest. She loved them more than anything. She'd give her soul away just to see them happy, to see them smile.

But that didn't exactly mean she felt like jumping for joy right then.

"Hey, Ames! Wait up!"

Alarmed, Amy spun around to see the object of her most innate desire dashing to catch up. She waited, then asked "Where's Tails?" once he fell in place beside her.

Sonic took a breath before answering, letting it out slowly. "Dunno. Said he needed the bathroom." He shrugged. It appeared that he'd gotten over her blinding hair by now.

With not mere interest, but literal longing, a longing that should be foreign to girls her age, longing for him to hold her, to tell it her it was all going to be okay, that he'd protect her, that he'd always be there, she passed her gaze over him. That deep blue fur, those wild quills and windswept hair, white tee under plaid button-up, cargo shorts and, what else, running sneakers. But his eyes. They were the best of all. They were so deep, so meaningful, like there could just be an entire world behind them, waiting to sweep her inside like a thief in the night sweeps away stolen jewels…

"_What_?" Sonic asked once he caught her staring at him. They hadn't moved an inch since he'd caught up to her. She knew he always liked to be on the go, every second if possible. No wonder he'd been so restless sitting there. Sigh. "Do I have something on my muzzle?" He started rubbing his face furtively, squinting.

Amy was about to answer, shaking her head, when Tails leaped out of nowhere and tackled Sonic to the ground.

"ON GÁRDE, Sonic!" the playful prepubescent announced like a true dramatic actor, his tails sweeping to and fro. "You thought you were in the clear, but I have been behind you this whole time! In the air, you see!"

The two rolled atop the asphalt. Up against a bright yellow divider, gently biting, tussling, scratching, wrestling. All innocent. But inconvenient for lovesick young Amy.

Sonic, promptly following their struggle, stood up and pressed Tails, the one defeated, to the ground with a foot. "You may have been able to sneak up on me, dear child, but you can never defeat me!" he declared with just as much acting. Then he laughed. A wonderful, deep laugh that Amy wished would grace her ears more often.

Tails scoffed. "You just got lucky. Next time, Sonic. Next time. What'ddya say about heading home, guys? I don't think Amy likes it here." He presented a toothy grin at his blue friend while climbing to his feet. He dusted off his worn jeans.

Finding herself unable to suppress a grin herself, Amy turned away, snappily putting her free hand on her hip, pretending to be heated over the whole matter. "Whatever. You guys are _so_ immature. Why do I even let myself be seen with you freaks?"

Every word she spoke was uttered from between smiling lips. _Thank you. Both of you, _she thought. _I can't remember the last time I smiled like this. _

* * *

Leaping. Leaping. Leaping. Blue legs moving in an incalculable motion. Shimmering blades of grass, gone in the blink of an eye. Dirt kicking up. Dust plumes rising in the air, to the right and left, then nothing anymore. Patches of snow. The briefest of all. The sound of a gurgling brook, then sucked away behind, swallowed in the speed. Wind.

Above, the sky.

Perfect. No clouds. Not even so much as a few dots of white, scattered like ivory paint from a brush.

Weightless. Her arms tight and cozy around Sonic's neck, feet wrapped around his torso like a bow wrapped around the best sort of present, Amy felt weightless like this.

She had gotten over the danger, the fear of 'running' with him before. If she fell off like this…well…

They were headed home at last. After all, they'd only gone in the first place because they'd promised not to make themselves _total _outcasts in this country society. Tails was likely not far behind, either flying the good 'ol way, or else hitching a ride. He was fine with the two of them taking off alone. It was routine.

A sort of invisible, spiderweb-thin bond in soul between the two hedgehogs…that was it. That was what kept them together. Not her fasting love, not his quiet acceptance and liars' fronts to avoid hurting her, but fate.

* * *

**Okay. Super-short chapter. I'm really sorry! I was just rushed for time….T.T….I promise to have a longer one ready for tomorrow. **

**Mond: If everyone doesn't flame you for this atrocity first.**

**Katie: Don't make me come over there…I **_**will **_**come over there.**

**Mond: You're the one at the keyboard. Do it, foo. **


	4. You Ain't Just Whistlin' Dixie

**Katie: Yet again, I find myself feeling retarded…**

**Mond: Now why would that be? **

**Katie: Simple mistakes. It's the simple mistakes that are making my writing ridiculous to read. Little, tiny ones, like forgetting to type a single word…that mess up an entire paragraph. Oh, and the worst part…is not seeing them until AFTER a bunch of people have read the chapter. Oh happy dagger…D: **

**Mond: Please don't go all Shakespeare on me. You remember what happened last time you did that?**

**Katie: *looks away* No…**

**

* * *

**

_CHAPTER FOUR: You Ain't Just Whistlin' Dixie_

Why'd they always have to go off together?

The three of them could fit in his plane.

Sure, he understood Amy was ga-ga for Sonic, and that he had similar feelings towards her. But that didn't mean it was fair for them to always leave him behind. Poor Tails. Maybe he really was the least important member of this party, maybe he really was just a third wheel.

Kids as young as him _needed_ more attention. It was a given. Don't supply, and a young one might just slip into depression.

Dejectedly kicking at the concrete sidewalk as he went, Tails walked his way around the side of the Church--- its towering, steel A-frame construction, pro-Christianity banners in blue and pink colors flapping in the breeze, and most impressive of all, the gleaming windows. In the back, his Tornado awaited. His ears were back. His fur lay flat, contrary to its usual vivacity. His eyes looked past the decorative flower beds, past the concrete, down, down, down, as though the fox was trying to stare into the center of the earth.

"Don't you guys like me…" Tails mumbled to himself, not bothering to turn the words into a question. Because he didn't know how to answer.

Strange…Since when did he start doubting the answer to that anyway?

* * *

Elsewhere, not thinking about Tails prominently but still keeping him deep in their hearts, as they loved him dearly, Amy and Sonic leaped another ditch and zoomed their way through another field. Past a herd of grazing sheep. Over a fence. Startling a few head of cows nearly to death.

Amy found herself unsure as to whether her hair was untouched, or whether it was now utterly on end. She didn't want to remove a hand from around Sonic's neck to check. For logical reasons. Instead, she just sighed tentatively, savoring this time while she had it.

The two of them never said a word during these trips…besides just knowing anything said would get sucked away behind, they knew words weren't needed. Words were never needed here. Here, flying by at insane speeds, sensations and reactions were what conquered all.

With a smile that again went unnoticed, Amy glanced up to see the distant, hazy form of their house grow closer. Bit by bit. And leap by leap.

* * *

"Did you notice how many Mobians have started coming out here? It's atrocious."

"Disgusting is more like it."

"I know! They really need to go back where they came from."

Tails' breath caught in his already tight throat. He halted in his tracks without thinking about it. The two voices had not come from anywhere near…they must've come from around the corner of the Church. That lone corner…merely a few meters from his awaiting Tornado.

Who would say things like _that? _Where he'd come from, in the city, no-one ever degraded Mobians. Even when G.U.N. started taking over. Mobians were accepted, not even thought about, as you'd see them around so much.

Biting his lower lip, Tails slunk over to the edge of the corner, not daring to peer around or keep going, knowing that doing so might mean trouble with the Mobian-dissers. He breathed slowly but surely, leaning up against the wall, feeling the sensation of cold steel sink though his thin blue tee. He was careful not to disrupt any of the gravel underfoot.

"I mean…they're so ugly! Walking _animals? _I don't think that should be natural. Not at all."

The first voice was a woman's, taut and to the point. The second, a man's. Mayhaps a couple?

"Might as well tag their ears and ship them to Japan. The Japanese _do _like to keep vermin for pets."

What was their _problem_? How could anyone feel that way at a people who felt the same emotions they did, bled just as they did, communicated the same, even walked the same? Tails was horrified. Shocked, stricken, torn beyond belief. He wanted to run out and say something in the defense of his people, wanted to shout and holler and cause a fit of ruckus…But he didn't. He didn't even quaver. Just kept standing. Waiting for them to go. Waiting for the coast to be clear.

Once the hateful voices ceased, an engine revved to life, followed by the chink-chink of gravel under tires as a car pulled away from beyond Tails' line of sight. It was only then that he dared step out into the open.

He glided hurriedly over to his precious Tornado. Still there. Still untarnished. Its elongated metal body caught the sunlight at harsh angles, blindingly in fact, if you happened to look the right way at the right time. On the tip of the tail was a rather cute Chao emblem. Cheese. In the hope and memory of Cream. He'd been working on this plane for some time--- making the cockpit longer, able to fit more passengers, widening the wings to support the extra weight, adding a few guns, as well as, be he rather embarrassed to admit his impulsiveness, a tracking-capable missile.

Seeing all the terrible things that had went down in the world recently, having the weapons engineered into the mix wasn't such a bad idea.

Sucking in a breath and quieting an anxious tremble that threatened to rack his body, Tails climbed into the cockpit, amazingly only a few feet off the ground. He made a mental note to tell Amy and Sonic what he'd heard.

* * *

"Ninety-eight percent positive. Yep, she's still kicking all right. No readouts that show signs of sickness or injury….thing's as healthy as a horse," Ivo declared sadly, leaning precariously over Tank 2's computer station. "That should be impossible."

"The 'impossible' could be a good thing," the Commander suggested, hearing the unusual tone in his companion's voice. He stepped up behind him and, peering over his shoulder, scanned the three different screens, two of which were normal rectangles, one which was shaped like a Mobian and featured temperature readings in a rainbow array of color, for himself. "You should have showed me this before…before most of them died." Turning away, the tall-statured man cast a rather revolted gaze at the thrumming, leaking tanks around them, all eight dull in the dim light. He knew that inside each was a floating dead body, left to rot in whatever sorts of chemical compounds for who knew how many years.

"Alright. I'm going to drain it. See no reason why that should cause any error." The Doctor said this stiffly as he walked around to the side of the tank, knelt down, and started fishing through a tangled mess of black cording. After coming across the correct one, he pulled on it to ensure it led to the right socket…then he _yanked. _

_PLIP! _A sound like a burst dome of bubble wrap bounced off the walls around them.

"And what was that for?" the Commander asked.

"_That _triggers an automatic drainage. I didn't have it programmed into the actual set of computer commands for the simple reason that I never thought I would need to."

"You mean you never planned on using these?"

"Not at all."

"Eggman, that's pointless experimentation! Why wouldn't you---"

"Every experiment has a point. Now, if you're going to start condemning me and interrogating me about a matter I no longer care about, then you'd better tell me how in the world you figured out I had these…and who told you. I'll kill them. I was supposed to forget these things even existed. Put them out of my mind. Looks like that's no longer a luxury I can have."

The Commander went silent, shut down by the Doctor's impudence but not jumping to punishment as was usual…too tangled up in curiosity.

Ivo gathered himself and moved to the other side of the tank. The door. He counted to five--- to make sure it was drained completely ---then pulled it open. It came easily, electronically sensing his intentions and knowing that all liquid had been drained.

All that was left was to go inside. That was all. One simple thing.

But Ivo found himself incapable.

Perhaps fear. Guilt maybe…though, if it was that, not very much. He never felt guilty…about anything, really. No, it had to be the fear. He was _scared _of what was in there, waiting, breathing, in the pasty dark, among sounds of dripping water and sealant chemicals, attached to any number of wires and mechanisms, covered in slime, like a newborn fresh out of the womb….

He shuddered. And threw himself up against the steel for balance. No. _No way in hell. _He was not going in there. She would have to come to him. He didn't care if she couldn't walk.

_One…_

Nothing. Strain as he might, Ivo could not even hear the tiniest breath.

_Two…_

A rattle. The quaver of a metal grate from deep inside. He thought he heard something like a voice, soft, sweet, though strongly off-key, but he couldn't tell what she was saying, nor how close she was.

_Three…_

"D-d-d-daddy…D-daaaddy…Daa…Daa..?"

This time it came clearly.

There were stomach-churning noises, like, like…oh God, he didn't even know how to describe them. How close was she? Was she even moving at all…cursed woe should he have to go in after her…

_Four…_

Ivo heard scraping. Clinking. Jolts, jolts against the ghastly background chorus of a haunted experimental tank. Why wouldn't the Commander help? Was he really just going to stand back there? Let him be mauled? The possibility of this sort of thing was monumental after all.

Truth be told, _he _was being stupid himself. If he was so scared, shouldn't he have brought a gun? A flamethrower?

A rocket launcher?

"D-daaaddy? Is that really _y-y-ou?" _

Shake. Rattle. Roll.

_Surprise. _

With a flash of crystalline white, Mondenkind was in front of him. Visible. At last in the clear…With a yelp and smile of pure glee, she had her arms wrapped around his legs. She'd been crawling over the whole time, held back only by the wiring imbued into her prone body, incapacitated only by inability to walk and difficulty with cognation.

"Daddy…I know it's you….c-c-cause you said you looked like this…" Every word was choked out…the child still was trying to learn to breathe in open air…the hard way. "Why…." Choking and wheezing, she gripped him yet tighter. "…..W-won't you say…..aaa-a-anything? W-why do you l-look so saaad?"

Ivo looked her over, filled with dread.

She was an albino. Pure and simple, with snow white fur over every inch of her not taken by thick, entwining cording, and pink eyes. She had white hair, falling to just below her shoulders, and perky, soft-looking ears. Her tail coiled on itself, reminding him of a lap dog…perhaps Pomeranian? Clear slime plagued Mondenkind's fur, clumping it in places like a sadistic sort of hair gel.

He forced himself to say something. Anything. Before she fell apart in front of him. Before _he _fell apart in front of her.

"Hey there, sweetheart. It's been a long time. Aren't you glad to be out of there?" Robotnik lulled, pretending to be of kind spirit.

"_Oh, you ain't just whistlin' Dixie, Daddy!" _she declared. And hugged tighter. If that was possible.

Where in _the Devil's name _did she learn that one?


End file.
